Cross My Heart
by LeShyWolf
Summary: Who would think I would get work experience in Arkham Asylum and meet some of the most dangerous, black hearted and cray-cray criminals? Trapped between a rock and a hard place, my life becomes a thrilling adventure of walking on eggshells and I find myself lost in a maze of darkness as my past catches up to me. HIATUS


"Miss Fox?"

Raising my eyes towards the front of the class and towards my teacher sheepishly, I put my pencil down at the glaring, stern look she was giving me. I always got easily distracted, doodling in class was a habit I had yet to break. Miss Jona didn't seem to like that. She always got this look that told me she was frustrated by my lack of attention on her lesson and it normally resulted in me being sent to the principals office.

"Please pay more attention." She rose an eye brow and crossed her arms over her chest. Licking my lips with a sheepish smile, I nodded and sunk into my chair as a few students snickered at my suffering. "Now," she walked over towards her desk and picked up a pile of sheets. "What I have here is the slip regarding the job you will take as your work experience, but this is only for the students _without_ an interview."

Half the class sighed in relief. Half groaned, me included.

"And even if you mess up the interview with your temporary boss," she started as she begun to walk down the rows of seats while handing out a sheet each. "You'll get the job anyway, so there's no way of getting out of it unless you want detention for the rest of your school years." Most students grimaced. "Fill in the sheet, then hand it in when you're finished." She told us as she was passing me my own sheet. "No whining or complaining because you will not get given another set of work experience."

My skin paled and my eyes widened in terror as I saw what I got:

_Name: Emma Rose Fox_

_Location: Arkham __Asylum_

_Occupation: Janitor assistant_

**_Days: _**_Monday - Friday_

**_Times: _**

_Monday- Start: 7:30am - Finish: 3:45pm_

_Tuesday- Start: 8:00am - Finish: 2:00pm_

_Wednesday__- Start: 9:00am - Finish: 3:55pm_

_Thursday- Start: 11:30am - Finish: 3:15pm_

Fiddling with the long sleeves of my soft grey thermal shirt (with a v-neck) nervously, I shifted in my seat and licked my lips anxiously. Arkham Asylum? The place where all the crazy and murderous people went? Like the_ Joker_ and the _Riddler_ and _Bane?_ Did the school want me to die? Why would anybody sane send off a kid towards Gotham's totes cray-cray institute? Even if I sent a complaint, the teacher said you couldn't change it. Why they even had Arkham Asylum on the work experience sheet was a mystery. The person in charge of this school obviously hated the kids.

My ears heard a few groans, but I couldn't pay attention to them as I just stared at the slip in horror. Nerves inside of my stomach twisted and churned tightly and uncomfortably at the thought of working so closely to the insane criminals, it was unsettling to say the least. I was a dramatic person, but I didn't want to die so soon (or at all) because I was only sixteen. It was natural for the human race to be afraid of death. Most did all they could to avoid it. Including me, I felt tempted to just fake an illness so I didn't have to go. I had swine flu once, it was horrible but I might be able to put my acting skills to the test and it would be realistic since I know the symptoms and stuff.

I had never been a positive person...

The trilling high pitched ring of the school bell bounced in the halls of the school and I stood up, packing my stuff and books away into my backpack before tucking the chair underneath the table. Approaching Miss Jona as she sat behind her wooden desk, I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, fingers briefly brushing the small silver hoop in my ear. I opened my mouth but then she cut me off.

"If this is about having another job you ain't getting it, sweet pea." Her husky Brooklyn accent tinged voice was thick in the air, annoyance underlying her tone. Obviously she always got complaints from other students about this.

"But _Arkham Asylum_ is _hardly_-" I tried to argue, only to be cut off.

"You kids are always so fussy," she swatted her other hand and didn't even bother to glance at me as she wrote something down on her notepad. "School is hard and you don't always get what you want. Ya learn to get used to it eventually kid, it's a part of life."

My lips pressed into a thin line and I shoved my hands into my baggy jean pockets before nodding with a forced polite smile before walking off. My red converse boots squeaked against the floor as I walked down the corridor towards my locker while thinking about how I was going to survive during my work experience. Teeth gritted as I swallowed hard and sighed.

_Zzzzz-ZZzzzz_!

Without glancing down, my hand slipped inside my hoodie pocket and took out my phone before I has a look a the message somebody had sent me.

_From: Jayna  
__Going out tonight, pasta is in the fridge x_

Rolling my eyes I text her back saying 'ok' and tucked the phone back into my pocket before making my way out of the school gates, my bag thumping against the back of my thigh as I power walked towards the bike shed. Unlocking my bike, I swung my leg over the seat as I pushed off and cycled down the road, dodging other students as they walked out of the American high school.

Once I got home to the apartments, I took my own little spare key and twisted the lock open, pushing the door open and taking out the mail from the box before taking the lift up to the floor with my flat. Yawning as I pushed the door open, I chucked my bag on the floor and snatched up the TV remote before practically collapsing onto the sofa. Eyes not moving from the TV screen, my feet kicked off my converse boots before crossing at the ankles and resting on the coffee table in front of me, propping up my elbow on the arm of the sofa then resting my cheek into my palm.

"_-tacked Gotham's bank-_" I snapped back to attention and blinked dazedly back to the screen as a blonde reporter, Vicki Vale talked to the camera, behind her was a commotion, people weren't allowed into the scene, police were pushing some civilians back away from the yellow line. Frowning, I stretched, scratching my cheek as I listened to the blonde reporter. "-Intel says that Two-Face is behind this whole-"

Bored, I switched the channel with a frown on my face. Enough drama happened in Gotham. Ever since Jayna and I moved here, nothing but drama, drama and violence. We did our best to avoid it, mum got me a license to carry a taser gun just in case something did happen. I didn't argue, in fact I was grateful. I heard that this girl from school, Jenny something-don't remember her last name-had mentioned on the way to the mall she was mugged in the streets and that she barely got away. The only reason she did was because of this guy that dressed up as a bat and saved the day.

It was kind of awesome, but strange at the same time.

Gotham had it's own dark knight, it seemed.

I warmed up the pasta Jayna left me before switching over the channel to _Doctor Who_ and shoving the food in my mouth, enjoying the taste of the melted cheese I had sprinkled all over it.

_"RIINNNGGGGGG!"_

Jolting up and awake, my head jerked up, glanced around sleepily as my skull throbbed. Reaching over towards my phone on the arm of the sofa and frowned before glancing at the blanket on top of me. I rubbed my eyes in confusion and grogginess and grabbed the phone, pressing the 'snooze' button and chucking it next to my body, throwing my arm over my eyes as I leaned back into the sofa. I sighed after a few minutes and sat up, peeling the warm blanket off my body as I stood up and walked towards the bathroom. One glance in the mirror made me groan when I saw my hair all puffed up and curly as always. When your hair was naturally curly, it became a pain to brush.

Leaving my hair down wavy, I then slapped on a little foundation and only a bit of mascara along with light lip gloss. Looking around and yawning, I snatched the striped thermal white and grey shirt along with some blue skinny jeans that had rips (intended) on them. Yanking my white converse boots on, I picked up my light brown bag and my keys before shutting the door behind me. My eyes flickered towards the time on my phone, my feet increased in pace. I got a cab so I got there quicker to get this day over with. My stomach coiling and twisting uncomfortably.

I sighed as I stepped over by the gate, the cab driver saluting me in a 'good luck' motion before he zoomed down the road. He told me this was as far as he was driving so I had to walk to my doom. Blue orbs snapped over towards the keypad and I sighed again while praying I made it throughout the day before pressing my finger down on the button. It buzzed and a static emitted from it, then a sharp voice spat out of the metallic device.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I'm uh," I cleared my throat, shoving my hands in my hoodie pockets. "I'm the student doing work experience-"

"Miss Fox?" I nodded awkwardly, looking up into the camera pointed at me. "Oh, go ahead and go in."

The gate buzzed and I quickly grasped one of the bars, pushing the gate forward with a squeak and starting my journey towards my inevitable doom.

Once I reached the Asylum, security made me walk through a metal detector, they checked my bag without really even looking (_great_ staff) and one of the guards practically grunted and shoved my bag back into my arms. I tried not to stumble but the guy was like 7 feet tall and bulky with muscles. Nervously, I followed the guard escorting me to my new 'boss' and he said to ignore any patients that say anything at all.

Scratching my cheek, I followed him into the lift, then stepped into the corridor as I walked after him. My backpack was hanging from my shoulder, my wavy hair hiding half over my face like always. My friend Elijah called me 'Peep' because the first time we met in school I was so shy that he couldn't get a 'peep' outta me, as he said.

The door opened and I felt my heart skip a beat when I saw convicts all chained up walking in a line towards their cells. My stomach coiled but I stared them each in the eye, trying to show I was unafraid. Though that was slightly hard with all the leers directed at me. I wasn't Megan Fox (or related to her in anyway) despite my last name, but I wasn't incredibly ugly. I was a little pretty, but mostly the average teenage girl.

And no, I wasn't the cliche 'Oh I'm so ugly!' teen girl that was actually in reality really beautiful. I _was_ just average but with nice eyes. I wasn't fat, but I had slight pudginess on my skin. Years from playing video games indoors or going on the laptop instead of going out with my 'girlfriends'. I was being honest here, I wasn't the most popular girl at school. I had friends (two of them I _really_ got on with), but for some reason I felt... _different_ from them. Like I didn't belong there.

These men were dangerous, killers, rapist's, excreta. The fact I was so _close_ to them unnerved me. They hadn't been getting any 'action' in bed either, so I was in a danger zone. It didn't matter how young I was, or if I was ugly or not. I was still _female_, which they were attracted to like a moth to a flame. It probably wasn't a matter of looks, just gender. I just had the misfortune to be female and to be in Arkham right then.

"Hold on." He told me, holding up a hand as he approached another guard with his hand cut off, a hook replacing it. A million Peter Pan jokes entered my mind but I shook my head and looked around, eyes scanning the place and trying to ignore the disgusting leering coming from all the criminals. They weren't insane, they knew _exactly _what they were doing. So I didn't know why they let them stay in the asylum. It was obvious they weren't insane. They were just evil.

I clenched my fists and my scowl deepened when I heard a few cat whistles from the convicts.

"Don't pay attention to them."

I heard a deep feminine voice tell me, I jumped and turned around. A woman with brown hair tied up into a neat bun stood there, green eyes looking at mine as her lips quirked into a slight annoyed scowl when looking at them as they turned their attentions on her. She wore a white coat over a red blouse and she wore dark brown trousers, tucked under her arm was a clip board and I noticed that on her name tag it said 'Dr. Young' in bold.

"I wasn't." I answered, tucking a strand of hair behind my left ear.

"Good." She locked her eyes with me. "We don't need another incident, it took a fortune to get all the press off our backs."

Nice people.

But most importantly, what did she mean by ..._another_ incident?

Before I could ask anything, the guard escorting me 'Tom' came back over with a small smile. It was half grim and half comforting, his hazel eyes looked exhausted, there were black heavy bags under his eyes. I could tell this job would be so much _fun_ already. He nudged his head towards a random direction, gesturing for me to follow him. Giving Dr. Young a nod of acknowledgement with a small smile, she didn't return the smile but she did nod stiffly. I walked with Tom towards where my new 'boss' would be, chewing on my lip._  
_

Tom made me wait outside as he walked into the room. Blinking, I scratched my arm and turned around, leaning against the wall in boredom. My hair was partly in my face as I looked down at my shoes and closed my eyes before my ears perked up at the sound of footsteps. In a place like this, you'd need to keep your guard up. So I opened my eyes and looked in the direction of the footsteps. A man that had brown hair and green eyes was walking down the corridor, he was wearing a white lab coat and his hands were in his pockets. He seemed calm and collected as he walked down the corridor, whistling a familiar tune. It sounded like a child's theme song. Or a song from an ice cream truck...**  
**

He walked right passed me like I was invisible.

My eyes noticed a piece of paper flowing down onto the ground from his pocket and I quickly picked it up before clearing my throat and jogging up to him. I tapped his shoulder and his head swerved around to me, eyes snapped to my face and I blinked while jerking back in surprise, staring straight back at him as his emerald orbs locked with mine and his footsteps ceased. He halted in the corridor, hands still in his pockets.

"Sorry, um..." I coughed uncomfortably from the intensity of his green stare before holding out the piece of paper that had dropped to him. "You.. you dropped this."

I wiggled the piece of paper as evidence to go with my words, wanting him to take it so I could just walk away. The silence rang in my ears. Something about the guy rubbed me the wrong way, it was something nagging me in the back of my mind. I couldn't put my finger on it. My heart races as his eyes glinted with something as they observed the piece of paper in my hand. A tiny unfathomable smirk lifted on his lips and he took the paper from my hands before tucking it into the other pocket.

"How foolish of me not to notice." He stated, seeming a little annoyed with himself as he then looked at the freshly broken pocket with irritation. "Thank you, my dear. You don't know what would have happened if I hadn't realized that this _stupid_ jacket had a hole in it's pocket. Though I'm sure I would have noticed sooner or later, I'm very observant, you know." He told me, voice practically leaking arrogance. I nodded politely, shoving my hands into my pockets. He came across as a man that liked to listen to his own voice.

"You're welcome." I replied while spreading my lips into a small friendly close lipped smile before he nodded with a charming smile of his own and walked off. My eyes followed his direction and my muscles relaxed. You couldn't be too careful of people in asylums. A few more minutes ticked by, then Tom came out of the office with an old man wearing a janitor's uniform. He had bright steel grey eyes and dark hair, silver lines and wrinkles increasing with his age. He had a slight gut sticking out of his stomach, his intense orbs holding age and experience.

"You must be Miss Fox. I'm Richard Gate." He greeted as his eyes locked with mine. He held out his hand to me and I grasped his. He squeezed it slightly, firmly, as we shook hands. "You have... very _soft_ hands."

A little creeped out, I gave him a nervous smile and took my hand away, fighting an urge to wipe it on my clothes and then burn them later. "Uh... thanks..."

"You've never worked a day in your life, have you?" He rose an eye brow, an assuming glint in his eyes.

"Yes." I defended, my voice a little high pitched. That always happened when I was defending myself and when I was offended and sometimes when I was lying. Though I was kind of a good liar, getting away with some things because of it.

He gave me a look.

"...No..." I admitted. "Unless you count school."

"I don't." He dead panned.

Of course he didn't.

Awkward silence hung in the air as we all stood there, I pursed my lips, pocketing my hands. "_Right_."

"Let's give you a tour of where you'll mostly be working, then." The old man declared, Tom bid us a goodbye and I followed after the old man.

_Fingers crossed I don't die..._


End file.
